


It's About Ethics in Paranormal Research

by burglebezzlement



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Extra Treat, F/F, Fire Station, First Kiss, Fluff, Pumpkin Spice Latte references, ToT: Chocolate Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burglebezzlement/pseuds/burglebezzlement
Summary: Holtz is thinking about chatting up Gertrude Aldridge. Erin can’t make a case against it, until she can.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emerla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emerla/gifts).



> Happy Trick or Treat!

“You can’t date Gertrude Aldridge’s ghost.” 

It’s not the first time Erin’s said this. Holtz doesn’t look away from the mirror where she’s checking her hair. Holtz’s pre-date ritual seems to include a lot of hair gel and sweeping her hair even higher up than usual.

“Why not?” Holtz leans down to check her hair in another one of her creepy mirrors. “The way I figure it, she’s probably never had a Pumpkin Spice Latte.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Erin thinks for a moment and decides that she doesn’t want to know. “No, don’t answer that.”

“I show up, Pumpkin Spice Lattes in hand. We talk, we laugh. We bond.” Holtz looks over at Erin and waggles her eyebrows. “We figure out how to get freaky.”

Erin tries to think of a response while Holtz looks back into one of her mirrors.

 _She’s dead, Jillian_ will just lead to Star Trek jokes. An impassioned lecture about why the living shouldn’t date ghosts will lead to accusations of vitalism. And forget trying to argue with Holtz about the ethics of a researcher dating one of her subjects.

And it’s not like arguing that something’s creepy would have any impact on Jillian Holtzman, who confiscated half the stuff in Rowan’s creepy basement and brought it back to the second floor of the Ghostbusters’ fire station. She replaced the broken glass in the picture frames with mirrors and hung them on the wall of her lab, providing her with the creepiest mirror wall ever. Patty says she sees shapes in them after dark, sometimes, although she’s not giving up her toehold on the second floor ( _”You can’t call dibs on a floor, Holtzy”_ ). 

“You can’t date a ghost.” Erin knows she’s repeating herself, but she’s not sure what else she can say.

Holtz sweeps her hand through her hair again and then frowns. “Why not?”

 _Because I don’t want you to_ , Erin thinks.

But that’s not a reason. Even though Holtz flirts with Erin, it probably doesn’t mean anything. Holtz flirts with everyone. She flirted with the scary media woman from the mayor’s office and with the delivery guy Abby reported to Yelp for insufficient wontons and with the elderly lady who called them on a ghost busting job last week and —

— and Gertrude Aldridge, apparently. Erin hadn’t noticed much of a spark the last time they met her, but maybe that was all the ectoplasm Gertrude was vomiting on her.

“I’ve never had a Pumpkin Spice Latte,” Erin says, instead.

Holtz’s head swings up from the mirrors. She meets Erin’s eyes, and Erin finds she can’t look away.

“Is that a euphemism?” Holtz asks.

Erin takes a deep breath. “Do you want it to be?”

If someone had asked Erin what Holtz might be like, if either of them ever made an actual move, if Erin ever flirted back, she’d have said it’d be the usual flirty Holtz, only turned up to eleven, dancing with torches and knives and whatever her latest ghost shredder is.

Instead, Holtz looks like she did in the restaurant, when she stood up to give her toast and sat down shaking. She’s frozen, her hair stuck at a weird angle where she pulled her hand away too soon.

“I’m sorry,” Erin says, because it’s hard to break a lifetime habit of apologies. “I have no idea if Pumpkin Spice Latte is code for anything. I’ve never even had one.” She doesn’t even like flavored coffee. Or pumpkin. 

“I could buy you one,” Holtz says, slowly.

She meets Erin’s eyes again, and Erin feels a shiver run down her spine. A good shiver. “I’d like that,” she says. 

“Yeah?” Holtz holds Erin’s eyes for a moment longer, and then she steps forward, slowly, carefully. 

Erin nods, not trusting her voice. 

Holtz is the one who steps in for the kiss, but it’s Erin who moves the last bit forward, tilting her face and touching Holtz’s cheek with her fingers. Her heart is racing, her stomach churning — _screw it,_ she thinks, _I’ve done enough waiting for my real life to start_.

She leans in, and Holtz’s lips are on hers, just the barest pressure at first, but then Holtz lifts her hand to Erin’s hair, brushing through, and pushes closer. Erin’s breath catches and she pulls Holtz closer.

Some time later, Holtz pulls back. “So just so I’m clear here. You getting upset about me dating Gertrude, that wasn’t about ethics in paranormal research, was it?”

“Shut up, Holtz,” Erin says, her voice rough. 

“Yeah,” Holtz says. She smiles at Erin, that dangerous smile that Erin’s been watching from too far away. “Make me.”


End file.
